


Beyond Midgard

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie, yespolkadot_kitty



Series: As You Are [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Disabled Reader, F/M, Frigga is lovely, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki Angst, Loki fluff, Loki smut, Odin is a dick, Smut, disabled, everybody lived, spoonie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-10-29 11:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20795813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: Loki and Spoons travel to Asgard.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written with my partner-in-crime, yespolkadot_kitty!

You were cuddled up to Loki on the couch, idly watching mindless reality TV with him - something called _The Great British Bake Off_ that Loki had at first snubbed, but now adored, making comments such as “Imbecile. Why would you enter such a contest without first becoming adept at a creme patissiere?” when he patted your back lightly, pulling you from your daze. “Kitten?”

“Hmm?” you hummed, too content and comfortable to lift your cheek from where it rested against his solid chest. You loved the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.

His heart raced just a bit faster beneath you. “Would you accompany me on my journey to Asgard this coming Saturday?”

You pushed yourself up off of him with a hand on his chest, blinking up at him. He regarded you with a practiced indifference that you knew was false, going by the tension around his eyes and his quickened breathing moving him beneath your palm. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Thor and I are due for our yearly visit to discuss diplomatic affairs with the Allfather. It would please me greatly if you accompanied me.”

The Allfather. His father. Odin. Ruler of basically everything you knew existed. No big deal. Stifling the rising anxiety bubbling within you, you managed a nod, trying to mirror his air of fake calm. “Oh. Well. Sure. When you put it like that.”

~~~

What exactly did you wear to meet interplanetary royalty? Loki had said that he and Thor were both wearing their leather armor, but it wasn’t like you had a set of chainmail in your closet to pull out for just this occasion. Why didn’t Macy’s have a section for meeting the terrifying and intimidating parents of your boyfriend who just so happened to be alien royalty? You guessed it’d be a pretty niche range.

When Loki strolled into your open bedroom door, looking every bit the Prince he was in his well-fitted and oiled leathers, cape dramatically flowing behind him as if he had magicked it that way - he easily could have, the insufferable show-off - you felt even more woefully inadequate. How was your choice of a flowing skirt and smart but comfortable blouse supposed to match up to _that_? 

He sauntered up behind you and settled a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it softly as he took in the unmatched picture you both made in the mirror. “Ready to depart?”

Leaning back against him lightly, you reached up and settled your hands over his. “Do I look okay?”

“Exquisite as always,” he smiled, resting his chin on top of your head. “Perhaps one more thing…”

He gestured a long-fingered hand and your blouse became emerald silk, trimmed with black. “My colours. So everyone can be sure….”

You arched a brow, asking sarcastically, “That I _belong_ to you?”

“It’s I who belongs to you,” he said solemnly, then kissed your forehead. “You look exceedingly lovely.”

“Oh, good. I figured you were going to say I looked like an anxious ball of nerves, because that’s certainly how I feel.” The try at humor was hollow, as was the laugh that forced itself through your twisted lips.

He extracted himself from you and lead you out into the hallway of your apartment building, your hand held firmly in his. “You have _nothing_ to fear.”

You rolled your eyes. “Easy for you to say. I don’t know if you realize it, but meeting the mother of your significant other is already stressful enough when they’re just _normal_ people.”

“And my mother is not?” he asked, unperturbed. 

“Queen Frigga, the Allmother?” You shivered as you stepped out into the chilly wind, waving faintly at Thor as he pushed off of where he had been leaning against your building. “She could order me wiped off the face of the Earth and nobody would bat a single eyelash.”

A fierce protective look crossed Loki’s face as he pulled you into the alley beside your building. His hands settled on your upper arms and he stooped down to look into your eyes. “She would not dare. I wouldn’t allow it.” 

He did sound a _little_ like a petulant child just then and you stifled a laugh. Judging by the cough from Thor behind you, he found it funny, too.

The golden prince stepped up on your other side, shooting you an easy smile that didn’t seem fitting when he was dressed to take on an army. His own armor suited him, enhancing the breadth of his shoulders and making you feel incredibly tiny in comparison. Although you had that feeling any time you were around either of the Odinson siblings, for different reasons. “She will adore you, as we do.”

You gave a noncommittal grunt, knowing that they would never understand your fears. They had been raised to know their importance in life, to feel nothing but confident in where they stood in the grand scheme of things. Even though Loki’s had been shaken recently, he still acted as if he believed himself royalty, and he was, just maybe not in the sense that he had believed for centuries. It bolstered a bit of your courage, but only just.

How much could either brother _really_ protect you if Odin decided that he was tired of his sons bringing mortal women before him as their selected romantic partner?

“Were you this worried upon meeting my brother and myself?” Loki asked, pulling you from your thoughts as he gathered you into his arms, holding you securely to his front.

You propped your chin up on his chest to look at him, tangling your fingers in the soft yet strong, heavy fabric of his cape. “Nope. You guys don’t count.”

The look of shocked confusion, and then a little offense, on his face made you bite your lip to stifle your laughter. Again. “I _beg_ your pardon?”

Your answering laughter could surely be heard for miles over the din of the bustling city streets. Patting his back consolingly, you turned to Thor after you shot a searching glance around your small group. “Is Jane coming with us?”

He crossed his arms over his barrel-sized chest and shook his head with an answering frown. “Unfortunately not. She claimed she was much too busy working on her latest research, and I was not foolish enough to attempt to pry her away from it. You will be the only mortal accompanying us today.”

“Lucky me,” you deadpanned.

“Let us not keep mother and father waiting any longer,” Loki drawled, ending your conversation with Thor. He moved one hand to splay across the back of your head, cradling it against him while the other anchored your hips to his. “Hold tight to me and close your eyes, kitten.”

“Heimdall, bring us home!” The brothers called in unison.

Just before you closed your eyes, light flashing in all the colors of the rainbow surrounded you. Your fingers dug into Loki’s back, and the roar in your ears could have been your blood pounding in your veins or your bodies as you flew through the BiFrost. You managed to open your eyes for just a second, catching a glimpse of a beautiful black and dark blue sky, dotted with stars and peppered with planets.

And then the ground was solid beneath your feet, and Loki’s strong arms around you were all that kept you from stumbling at the suddenness of it.

“You are late.”

The voice, deeply accented just like Thor and Loki’s, drew your eyes to a giant of a man, dark-skinned with almost unnatural yellow-brown eyes. It felt like he was staring right into your soul with those eyes, but the unnerving effect was softened by the smile he gave you as you detangled yourself from Loki’s embrace. 

He bowed his head slightly to you in greeting before gesturing to a pair of horses just outside of the beautiful golden dome that you found yourself in. “Your horses are waiting for you, as requested. The Allfather and Allmother can be found in the throne room. And milady?”

You remembered to pick up your jaw from the floor to turn your attention back to him, having lost yourself in absorbing every detail of your love’s home that you could. From the rippling rainbow of the BiFrost where the - thankfully - normal looking horses waited, to the clear and deep blue water rushing beneath it, to the expansive city of stone and gold beyond it, and finally, to the gleaming castle in the distance, dominating the skyline.

“Welcome to Asgard.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our reader meets Odin and Frigga, and the Queen sizes up Spoons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written with the ever-excellent @hopelessromanticspoonie

Even as you took in the splendor of the new world, you felt the stares of the townspeople on you and Loki as he guided your horse through the stone streets.

How were you supposed to marvel at the interesting architecture, soak in the grandeur of the seemingly slower-paced life of those bustling about, when they stopped and stared at you sitting in front of one of their Prince's, boldly wearing his colors, held securely in his grasp.

You felt Loki behind you, tense and straight-backed, adopting an air of pride and arrogance that he often shed in the moments shared in your apartment. He was putting back on the layers of formality that you hadn’t fully seen him embody yet, preparing himself for the battle he was sure to find with his father.

Your mind was racing, matching your rabbiting heartbeat, when you came to a stop in front of the golden castle with spires that climbed into the clouds. You had never felt smaller and less insignificant than at that moment.

“Come, love. Ready to meet the King and Queen?” Loki asked, sliding off of the horse gracefully behind you, pulling your attention to him when he fastened his hands around your hips to help you do the same.

You winced in pain at your awkward dismount, pushing the new term of endearment to the back of your mind. Had he ever called you ‘love’ before? There wasn’t time to think of where  _ that _ had come from when he was tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow, turning you both to face the large doors of the palace head-on. His face was set, betraying nothing, as if he were steeling himself for a battle where any flicker of emotion was to be used against him.

It didn’t exactly make you full to the brim with confidence.

Walking stiffly - it wouldn’t do for your legs to give out now - you stood as tall as you could beside him, catching Thor out of the corner of your eye matching your steps on your other side. You were flanked by royalty, and all you wanted to do was hide in a corner from what you were about to face.

Especially when you finally made it through the various stone hallways, lit with flickering torches that touched where the golden sunlight could not, and you caught your first glimpse of the ruler of the nine realms and his wife.

He was intimidation personified, sprawled across the golden throne at the end of the long room, making no move to greet you or acknowledge your presence besides pinning you beneath his heavy gaze. Were it not for Loki’s arm holding your hand tucked into his side, you would have stopped dead in your tracks.

When you came to a stop in front of him, you were able to get a closer look. Knowing how Asgardians aged, you had no idea how long the wizened man had lived, judging by the wrinkles that lined his hard face and the white that permeated his hair and beard. The eyepatch covering his eye didn’t help lessen his fearsome presence, nor did the long golden scepter he held regally at his side.

Loki hadn’t given you any guidance of what to  _ do  _ or how to  _ be _ when you met him. Did you bow? Curtsy? Both would probably be impossible for you to get back up from, so you bowed your head, keeping your eyes trained on the markings etched into the polished stone floor.

“My sons, you have kept me waiting,” he intoned. “There is much business to discuss and you know of the importance of the matters at hand.” Odin’s great voice rang out throughout the hall, hard and commanding. It sent chills mousing up your spine. “And you have brought _another _mortal into this great hall.”

The soft swish of fabric cut through the deafening silence that followed, and blue skirts appeared in your vision before a slender hand gently touched the bottom of your chin, lifting you up to meet the kind eyes of the Queen.

She was beautiful, not nearly as aged in appearance as her husband, with light blue eyes that crinkled around the edges. Her smile and golden hair were just a touch darker than Thor’s, the curls arranged elegantly on top of her head, her classic style appearing completely effortless. She wore her own armor, metal pieces overtop her gown to protect her chest and forearms, speaking of her own, probably extensive weapons training. Her hand fell from you and she took a step back, eyeing you and Loki with curious joy written plainly across her beautiful features.

“And who might this be, dear son?” she asked, her voice soft but still holding a tone of authority that made you instantly want to please her, respect her and obey her. 

He gave your name loudly, allowing it to reach across the room to reach Odin’s ears. “I am courting her, Mother, as Thor is his Doctor Foster.”

As if that wasn’t obvious by your entrance on his arm, or your blouse plainly showing his colors. You gulped, fighting to take deep breaths against the panic that wanted to claw up from your stomach and out of your throat in babbling nonsense. You kept your eyes on Frigga, knowing she was more forgiving of the two.

Odin’s brow furrowed slightly, but his expression gave nothing away. “We will have words about this, Loki. Come, let us discuss political matters first, I feel sure your mortal will be more than occupied admiring her new surroundings,” Odin called, his deep voice dripping with disdain as he rose and strode slowly down the steps separating you, coming to a halt just behind his wife.

“I will return to you in but a few moments, I swear it,” Loki promised beneath his breath, pressing a firm kiss to the side of your head before following Odin and Thor out of the room.

The air rushed back into your lungs once they were gone, and you fidgeted awkwardly in front of Frigga, who watched you with a gently contemplative stare.

“Would you like to see the gardens?” she asked, coming up beside you, waiting patiently.

“Oh, um, sure,” you replied, overwhelmed to be alone in her presence. Your eyes widened at your misstep, and you quickly added, ‘your Majesty.”

She led you out of the room without another word, going slow enough that you had the privilege of walking alongside her. You caught various Asgardians that you passed bowing slightly to her, bending their knees and tucking their chins to their chests. The deference and respect shown to her at every turn really solidified the fear that dried out your throat and made your palms sweat.

“My sons seem quite fond of you,” she mused, folding her hands in front of her as she led you through the maze of high-ceilinged halls. It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t treat it as such.

“Yes, ma’am.” _Was that an appropriate title for her? _“Thor is a dear friend,” you added, trying to figure out how to correctly phrase your feelings toward Loki to his mother. Say too little and risk her believing that you weren’t serious about your relationship; say too much and have her possibly reject you as his partner. He greatly surpassed you in every way, and you didn’t want to have Loki’s parents and moreover, his King and Queen, forbid you from continuing to see each other. He had a hold on your heart that would ruin you if he was forced to release it.

“And my second child, Loki?” she asked as you stepped outside, the floral perfume of the beautiful flowering gardens ahead of you wafting pleasantly through the light breeze that tugged lightly at your skirts. “You wear his colors.” Her gaze upon your emerald blouse was speculative but not unkind.

You couldn’t stop the blush that blossomed on your cheeks as you found the cobbled path among the well-maintained shrubs and bushes. Not knowing how else to approach the situation, you figured honesty was your best bet. “I do, yes. He… he is the most important person in my life.”

“He must be.” Frigga paused to cup a rose in her palm. “You crossed the BiFrost, after all.”

You swallowed. “That was an experience.”

“Brave, for a mortal,” she commented in that gently lilting voice, and you had absolutely  _ no fucking idea _ where she was going with this. “To take such a leap.”

“Well.. he came to Earth - I mean, Midgard,” you hedged, wondering if you were really just in a  _ really well funded _ episode of Punk’d. “He asked, and it seemed ….. Like I should come. To meet you. You know. Your Majesty.”  _ Gah. Could you be any more awkward? _

Frigga smiled at you knowingly. “But still. You came. Not knowing what sort of reception you would receive. Perhaps not even being sure of your safety,  _ or _ whether you would be returned to your home planet.  _ That  _ is bravery.”

“I’m not  _ that _ brave,” you blurted. “Odin is, to be frank, ah, terrifying.”

A laugh bubbled up from Frigga and she turned to gaze at you, mischief darting across her fine features, reminding you  _ so much _ of Loki in that moment that it hurt, right in your heart. “He is a stubborn old goat in his dotage, don’t you think? But age makes fools of us all. It’s only a matter of finding the right person to become a fool with.”

The Allfather being referred to as a  _ goat _ made you choke on a laugh. Sobering up, you shifted on your feet and regarded the wise woman seriously. “And how do we know if we have?”

Frigga busied herself tending to the roses. She obviously knew that being face to face with her made you awkward, so she bent to her flowers. You breathed a little easier. “Oh my dear, I think you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t know the answer to that.”

You held your breath for a moment. “And what if the person you choose feels differently? Because you don’t...” suddenly a sob caught in your throat, and all you wanted was to unload onto Frigga’s kindness and pour your heart out and have her say it would be okay. Her maternal strength was surrounding you as the garden did, drawing out your deepest insecurities as you struggled to prove to both yourself and her that you had a right to your claim - however tenuous - on her son. “Because you’re not a good match? Physically?”

Her gaze softened as she regarded you. “Perhaps that is the other person’s choice to make?”

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, or to say something idiotic - it was brain vs mouth roulette! - Loki appeared in the arched doorway of the rose garden.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a haunting secret he needs to reveal to Spoons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with my smut sister, yespolkadot_kitty

“And I find _another_ mortal in my court,” Odin finished, his one good eye staring out at his sons.

Loki folded his arms over his chest and did his best to maintain the bored expression he’d trained himself to wear around his father. He glanced at Thor. The _golden_ boy of the pair nodded once, imperceptibly, and Loki knew that whatever his faults, his brother would have his back on this, if nothing else.

“I did not bring her here for you to judge, _Father_.” The word dripped with snark and Thor subtly elbowed Loki, reminding him to show a little respect. Loki ignored the jab. He wasn’t going to take any insults for his dear Spoons, let alone from _Odin_.

“Then why did you?” Odin asked imperiously. “And where is _your_ mortal dalliance, Thor?”

His brother’s face tensed. “I have asked you on several occasions not to speak of Jane thus.”

Odin merely raised a brow like he’d heard all this before, and wasn’t interested in any opinion other than his own.

“I brought her here so she would know Asgard. Where I was raised. So to speak,” Loki finally said, his voice echoing to his own ears in the chamber. “She is… I love her.”

Odin’s eyebrow raised further than Loki had ever seen it in his lifetime. “You think you love her, boy,” the old man rumbled.

“‘Tis true, Father,” Thor intoned quietly but firmly, brokering no argument. “I have never seen Loki so… At peace with himself.”

“Is that so?” Odin asked, his tone lazy, like he cared not for the answer whatever it was. “And what about when she grows weak and old, as Midgardians do? What about in the Winter of her mortal life? What then?”

Loki pressed his lips together. To tell Odin that he planned to ask for the apple would surely mean the tyrant destroyed every one he could find out of spite for the stolen child he had taken long ago during wartime.

But to say nothing….

He glanced at Thor, feeling a kinship with his brother that hadn’t been there for some time. Years. Their love for mortals had brought them together again, and he was grateful for it.

“You mean to ask Frigga,” Odin murmured, his eye narrowed in appraisal as he stared at his sons - united in their affections for mortal women.

“Yes.” No hiding it now, Loki thought, frustration simmering in his belly. “If you have anything to say, say it here, or forever hold your tongue.”

“Oh, I have plenty to say,” Odin began. “But little of it that you will want to hear, to abide by. You have ever forged your own path, regardless of my opinion of it, Loki.” His eye raked down his adopted son’s long form. “The mortal knows, I assume? Of your Jotun heritage?”

Loki shifted uncomfortably. She knew. She hadn’t seen. But that would not matter to someone like her. Would it?

“Of course,” he lied, the words falling smoothly from his lips.

“And she has seen your true form and loves you, still?” Odin pressed, settling his weight back on his heels, his brow arched in disbelief.

Loki nodded, not trusting himself to speak the lie out loud. They hadn’t exchanged such proclamations of love, but he would not rush it. That small facet of information did not need to be made clear.

“Father, enough,” Thor commanded quietly. 

Odin bristled at his son’s tone but inclined his head. “As we have concluded business, we should return to your mother.”

As they walked together from the throne room, fury coiled tightly in his belly. The shred of doubt had been planted by his poisonous father, and it festered.

~~~

Tension immediately seeped out of your tightly-wound frame when Loki stalked into the garden. The conversation had taken a turn for the serious with his mother, and you were far too exhausted and a little too pained to uphold your politeness beneath such scrutiny, however gentle and well meant, for too much longer.

“Getting along well, are we?” Loki asked, coming up to the duo. He embraced his mother with one arm, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head before releasing her to do the same to you.

“We were just having a lovely chat, woman to woman,.” Frigga graced the pair with a warm smile, her serene face giving absolutely nothing away as to what you’d discussed. The woman had serious game.

You slipped your hand into the crook of Loki’s elbow, leaning on him lightly as the travels of the day weighed down on your aching body. Traveling through the Bifrost, riding on horseback, walking around the expansive palace, and the added strain of meeting the King and Queen of basically everything you knew to be had taken its toll on your body. His face revealed what had probably been a stressful conversation with his father as well, if the crease between his eyebrows and the taut muscles beneath your hand were anything to go by.

Frigga tilted her head in her regal, enigmatic way. “Loki. I’d wager your guest needs some time to recover after the journey, and a moment to acclimate to Asgard. Perhaps you should take her to your quarters to refresh herself.”

_Thank goodness_. An excuse to take a moment away with him wasn’t one that you were going to turn down. “I’d love to see your rooms.”

“Who am I to turn down such a request?” Loki asked, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Before you could reflect on that, he bowed his head lightly to his mother and led you off back in the direction of the castle.

As you walked with him, you took notice of the small differences in how he was received compared to his mother. Instead of warm smiles and bowed heads, he was met with cold stares, and the backs of subjects you passed turned away to focus on meaningless tasks. The response made your blood boil in your veins. He should be afforded all the respect of his family, who were greeted with open happiness or at least admiration, at each turn - even Odin, miserable as he seemed. You held your head up higher, showing without words your pride in being seen with the dark prince, despite the nagging pain lighting up your legs, pulling your shoulders back at the confused glances sent your way.

If you weren’t already an oddity for being a Midgardian, then your appearance on Loki’s arm, wearing his colors no less, certainly did the trick.

“And these are my chambers,” Loki said quietly, breaking your train of thought. He pushed open two imposing, elaborately carved golden doors, releasing you from his grasp so that you had the opportunity to explore as you pleased.

The suite was grand, the visible area alone larger than your entire studio apartment doubled. The beautiful Asgardian skyline was visible through high stone arches leading out onto a grand terrace, illuminating and reflecting off golden accents dotted around the room. His signature colors of green and black raced over the lush bedspread covering the largest bed you’d ever seen, complete with intricate wrought iron headboard, the heavy drapes covering the walls, and a plush rug that was spread out in front of a dark fireplace. And each wall was covered with bookshelves full to the brim with books of all different thicknesses and colors, itching to be plucked from the rest and perused on one of the two elegant wooden chairs currently soaking up the sunshine on the terrace.

He hovered behind you, waiting for your response, giving you space as you slowly walked about the room. Your feet carried you in a lackadaisical path to the bed, stopping to brush your hands over a stack of thick tomes, pausing to admire a small display of daggers. You sat down on the soft mattress with an audible sigh, the giving cushion beneath you most welcome.

Loki closed the doors behind himself, locking them with a loud click before turning to you once again. His shoulders were practically up to his ears as he shoved his hands behind his back, and his eyes stared holes in the stone wall behind you. His jaw was set, a muscle ticking there occasionally, revealing the gears silently turning in his head.

“What’s wrong? Conversation with your brother and Odin not go so well?” you asked, patting the bed next to you invitingly. He was so far away, lingering at the door of his rooms like a ghoul, and you craved the comfort of his touch to soothe your frayed nerves.

His eyes flitted down to yours, reading your expression thoroughly as if he could see into your very soul with his penetrating gaze. “It was to be expected. He is a stubborn old man set in his ways.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but it seemed the only one he was going to give at this time. Maybe a lighter topic of conversation would help ease his anxieties a bit? “Your mother seems lovely. She’s very… perceptive.”

The barest of smiles tugged on his lips, and he took a few steps closer to you. He brought one hand up, scrubbing it over his face, revealing a fatigued expression in its wake. “I…” he shook his head, putting his hands on his narrow hips and dropping his chin down to his chest as he puzzled over whatever was bothering him. His eyes were shuttered. 

Stifling the moan of pain that wanted to creep up from deep inside of you, you heaved yourself up off of the bed, closing the distance between you so that he was forced to look into your eyes. You reached out to take one of his hands gently, trying to reassure him with your touch. “You can talk to me, Loki. What’s going on?”

He pulled his hand away to cross his arms over his leather-clad chest, closing himself off from you. Hesitation was written in the tightness of his eyes. After several lengthy moments of silence, he turned his back to you, addressing the wall, his words cold and stilted as if practiced. “I am not Asgardian.”

“Well, I know that. Everybody knows how you and Thor aren’t _really_ brothers, but that doesn’t mean anything. At least it didn’t seem that way to your mother. She seemed to love you very much when we were talking,” you replied slowly, trying to get to the root of his problem. Your hand settled lightly on the dip of his spine between his shoulder blades, trying to maintain a physical connection to break through whatever was plaguing him.

“No. When I say that I am not Asgardian, I mean to say that I am from another realm. Jotunheim, to be exact,” he corrected you, firmly, but without malice to harden his tone.

“Okay… So you’re Jotunheimian?”

Your hand slid over his back to stop over his heart when he turned around to face you again. “I am Jotun. The creatures that inhabit that world are called Frost Giants-”

You cut him off with a smile. “-That explains the height.”

“Just listen to me, please,” he snapped, voice raised to almost be considered a shout. You jumped back at the suddenness of it, your hands curling into your chest protectively, and his face softened immediately. His long-fingered hands set about undoing the various stays and ties holding his armor on his slender frame.

Heat flushed onto your cheeks. He wanted to get naked now...? “Loki, maybe now isn’t the time.”

He rolled his eyes. “I am not trying to seduce you, kitten. It would help,” he dropped the heavy clothing to the floor behind him, “if you could see more of my body to make my point.”

You felt the weight of his stare as slowly, a blue tint crept across his exposed flesh, starting from the waistband of his pants, creeping up his body until it replaced every inch of creamy skin. You lifted your eyes to his, startled when the deep green you had come to know was replaced with a bright burning red. The intensity of his pleading stare, the pain and vulnerability, held you captive as his arms stretched out from his sides.

“When we first spoke, I mentioned knowing what it was to be different to those around you on the inside, but appear as everyone else on the outside. This is what I meant. I am this _creature_, a monster I was raised to despise and view as lesser than beings from the other realms,” he admitted, his voice deadly quiet, as if he spoke any louder it would frighten you away. “I felt it prudent to reveal my whole self to you before… Before our relationship progressed any further. To give you the choice to care for me, or not, with all the facts laid out before you.”

Your eyes left his, darting out to the sunlight streaming over the balcony invitingly. An idea formed. “Can anyone see us if we go outside?”

“No, one of the few allowances I am granted as a prince is that of a private terrace,” he replied slowly, dark brow furrowed.

“Can I see you in the light?” you asked, offering him a gentle smile, taking a few steps in that direction and holding your hand out to him.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and nodded, taking your hand and guiding you outside. You didn’t let go of him once you were able to see him in his full glory, instead pulling him so that your back was supported by the rough stone wall and he was positioned in front of you.

He was _glorious_. The bright light only highlighted the various shades of red shining in his eyes, and the lighter blue ridges that were scattered across his skin. Deep down he was still Loki, still the wonderful man who had taken your heart for his piece by piece, with each kiss and smile and poetic utterance, and this didn’t change that. One bit.

You tugged on him so that he stood close enough for your other hand to skate along his abdomen, the muscles there fluttering beneath your familiar touch.

“You care for me despite the limits of my physical body, yes?”

The smallest of grins tugged on his indigo lips as he looked down at you. “I do, very much.”

You brought your entwined fingers up to your lips, peppering light kisses over his knuckles. “And I lo-” you stopped yourself from uttering _that_ word. You couldn’t handle that sort of rejection when you were already overwhelmed by your surroundings. “And the hold that you have on my heart is no different. You could be purple, or yellow, or have multicolored eyes, and it wouldn’t scare me away. I have news for you, pal. You’re stuck with me, Loki, whether you-”

He cut you off with a searing kiss, pinning your body between his and the palace wall behind you. The outpouring of his relief and joy was tangible, felt in the way his tongue sought entrance into your mouth and his hands skimmed along your sides to hook beneath your thighs and lift your legs to wrap around his waist. 

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, tangling in his long raven hair as you deepened the kiss, warmth flooding your body from the gentle rocking of his arousal into your pulsing center and tongue exploring the depths of your mouth expertly, coaxing soft moans from you.

His heated touch seared your skin as he dragged his lips down your jaw to the pulse hammering in your throat, kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh with just enough pressure to send tendrils of electricity sizzling to your core. Panting, you tapped on the back of his neck, knowing that you couldn’t hold this position for long but not wanting to break the moment for anything. “Bed. Now.”

A pleased hum thrummed through your skin where his mouth had sealed over your collarbone, and he supported your weight easily as he carried you inside and to the bed, gently lowering your back onto the expansive surface without breaking his hold on you.

Your heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open to take him in as he left you on the bed to stand beside it, his porcelain skin and green eyes having returned, watching him as he quickly shed his pants to reveal nothing underneath, his cock springing to attention against his stomach. Hunger darkened his gaze as he knelt beside you, his calloused fingertips rasping against your skin deliciously as he helped you shed the remainder of your clothing until you were both bare before the other.

“I must have you,” he growled, voice raspy and deep as he settled himself between your spread legs, sliding his arms behind your back to press your bare chests together. The rub of his skin against your pebbled nipples made you hiss through your teeth at the almost agonizing thrill of it.

Your hands found purchase on the cut of muscles at his waist, and you squeezed him gently, shaking your head. “Not like this. In your Jotun form,” you commanded breathlessly, wanting him to know that you _fully_ accepted him, no matter what appearance he held. "Please."

The briefest flash of shock was wiped away by the strongest awe you had ever seen grace his face. Murmuring your name reverently, he claimed his mouth for yours just as he slid inside of you in one slow and steady motion, filling you completely and breaking the kiss so you could both gasp for air the other had stolen. As he did so, the now familiar blue swept over his body, complete with the beautifully patterned, ridged skin.

His forehead fell onto your shoulder as his back bowed over you, his steady thrusts just the right angle and speed to heighten the pleasure slowly tightening at your center. His teeth grazed against the heaving top of your breast, sending chills down your spine. The almost punishing pace he set meant you could do nothing but hold onto him, hands clutching at the flexing and rolling muscles of his back, as you both climbed towards the peak of your euphoria together.

One arm unwound itself from beneath you to slide between your bodies, seeking out your hardened nub of almost over-stimulated nerve endings that throbbed with the rapid drum of your heart, rubbing it furiously to give you that last needed friction.

With a cry that echoed throughout the vast room, your orgasm washed over you in a wave that had you clenching around him, milking his completion from him as well. Your name tumbled from his lips in a loud groan, barely muffled by his mouth against your sweat-dampened chest.

Carefully he collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you so that you were half-lying on top of him in one smooth motion. Your legs tangled with his and your arm draped across his chest naturally, a position that you had assumed many times before until your back protested. It was comforting to listen to his racing heart slow beneath your ear, feel his chest expand and contract as his breathing returned back to normal.

You traced your fingers over the swirling ridges on his still-blue skin, marveling at the deep colour and the pleasant texture. He was _beautiful_.

“Thank you for visiting Asgard with me, love,” he murmured, stroking the length of your spine languidly, hushing the ache leftover from his avid lovemaking.

_Love?_ Surely he hadn’t meant to use that endearment; he was simply sated and exhausted from his efforts. Choosing to ignore it, to not let yourself hope that his feelings matched yours, you tilted your head to leave a light peck on his sternum. “With a reception like that, I will return anytime you want," you replied cheekily.

"My mortal minx." He snuggled into you, his cheek pressed to your hair. "I would not change you for all the treasure in the Nine Realms."

As the two moons rose together beyond Loki's private terrace, you slept as Asgard settled around you, the scones in the palace going out one by one, until only starlight remained.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor compete in the "welcome home" festival, and our reader gets more time with Frigga.

Boy, did Asgard know how to throw a party. 

What seemed like the  _ entire _ population, all strikingly beautiful, heads held high, well dressed, had come out to welcome their Princes home - well, ostensibly, although Thor had a  _ much _ bigger following than Loki.

You suspected it was because of his Jotun heritage, a very badly kept secret. But it was so  _ fucking unfair.  _ Loki hadn’t asked to be kidnapped as a babe. He hadn’t  _ asked _ to be saved. While you would never wish that he’d perished with his people, you often wondered if he’d have preferred that. Your heart squeezed for him.

Despite Asgard’s perception of him, whatever that truly was or wasn’t, he looked every inch the Prince today in his best green and black leathers, a cape flowing behind him as he and Thor competed in part of the festival, an archery contest.

Thor drew back an arrow, glancing at his brother. The palace terrace had been cleared for the contest, the two targets more than seventy metres away from where they stood, the bulls’ eyes only a speck to your eyes, from where you sat, with Frigga and the other nobility. Odin was elsewhere, entertaining visitors from other realms.

The shot needed looked near impossible.

Thor drew back his bow and loosed his arrow with a satisfied roll of his shoulders.

It struck the bulls eyes and the gathered crowd whooped and cheered.

Loki readied his arrow, his handsome face serious as his eyes narrowed slightly. His back was ramrod straight, the bow pulled taut.

When he loosed his arrow, it landed not on his own bulls’ eye, but instead split Thor’s arrow down the middle.

Some applause sounded in the audience **, ** clearly much less enthused for him than Thor.

It hurt your heart, an actual ache in your chest at his less-than-glorious reception. The sadness lingered, and you wished it was tangible so you could rub it away.

Ever amiable, Thor laughed his friendly, booming laugh and clapped Loki on the shoulder. “Well played, brother.”

A millisecond of pleasure flashed over Loki’s face. If you hadn’t been looking, you wouldn’t have seen it.

After all this time, the siblings still loved each other, blood or not. But that affection was buried under layers of heartache and betrayal and  _ hurt, _ and maybe it was too much to combat. 

But just maybe, not.

You resolved to talk to Jane. Perhaps your combined knowledge of the pair could help mend the rift between them. At the very least, you and she could have a heart to heart about dating alien Princes, for sure. That’d be some conversation.

Loki slung his bow over his back and looked up at you. Your eyes met his green ones for a moment that stretched, and you knew he was thinking about this morning, when he’d rolled on top of you, waking you with kisses and the insistent press of his erection against your thigh. 

It’d been one hell of a way to wake up, making love with him as the moons of Asgard faded into the daylight, as the city woke around you and the birds sang their hellos.

The heat of his gaze promised more of the same later. You could hardly wait.

“A fine figure of a man, wouldn’t you agree?”

You snapped to attention at Frigga’s gentle words.

“Of course,” you said automatically, unsure what she wanted.

“It’s been a long time,” she said contemplatively, “since someone looked at Loki as you are now. A man, with a man’s faults and pride and blessings.”

“He sure has his faults,” you laughed, and then your hand flew to your mouth. “I mean-”

“I know what you meant.” Frigga’s gaze was on her sons as they strode down the terrace steps together, talking. “They are night and day, my sons. And I do not expect you to believe me when I say I love them equally, but I  _ do _ .” She paused, glancing at you before her eyes returned to the men now standing with some of the minor nobility of Asgard, accepting praise for their archery. “Thor has his faults. He can be a bit of a boor, on occasion. He is a hothead and he likes his drink too much on feast days. But he has a pure heart. He is braver than any I have known, and he loves deeply, and with longevity. And as you say, Loki has faults. He can be quick to judge. His heart has a long memory; he holds a grudge longer than many. I think he still holds one against me, for what Odin did all those years ago. But when I held him as a baby and looked into those eyes, already those of an old soul, I could not let him go.”

You sat in silence, absorbing her quiet, heartfelt words.

“I sense you see him for his faults. He holds a lot of anger, still. But he has a bigger heart than anyone gives him credit for. He can be kind, staggeringly so. And he has a wicked sense of humour, when he’s relaxed enough to show it.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as she rose to go. “Thank you for sharing with me.”

Frigga bestowed a gracious smile on you as she turned. “You are here, and that is all I need to know.”

  
  


******

Midway through the feast - a blur of the most ridiculously presented and awe-inspiring food you had ever seen or tasted - Loki leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Wait three minutes, then meet me on the terrace.”

Puzzled, you nodded.

You counted down the seconds, sipping the clear, cool water of Asgard as you waited. Even Evian couldn’t beat the water here. It was  _ liquid heaven _ , actual nectar of the gods.

Starlight sprinkled the black cloak of the night sky as Loki stood waiting for you on the terrace. His back was straight, his hair spilling over his shoulders.

He turned at your uneven footfalls. It had been a long day, and the slight limp to your steps was not one common amongst the generally fit Asgardians.

“Loki, you-” you began, but you barely got another word out before he swept your off your feet and into his arms, kissing you fiercely.

“Gods, but I’ve wanted to taste you for hours,” he murmured against your lips.

Your heart hammered.

“It must be the dress,” you reasoned.

Frigga had provided a silk creation seemingly made of air and angel kisses. It floated like a butterfly, hugging you in all the right places and skimming all the places you’d rather not show off. Black and overlaid with green and gold lace, it staked Loki’s claim on you silently, but effectively.

“That gown is quite something,” he agreed. “But not why I find I am quite addicted to you.”

Your breath held. It was the most he’d said about his feelings for you to date. “Then-”

“I am never so at peace with myself than when I am with you,” he added finally. “You must know that.”

You snuggled into him as he leant back against the terrace balustrades. His quarters’ terrace was plain, but this grander area was decorated with curling ivy hugging the pillars. The only light came from two wall mounted torches, and the stars and moons overhead.

“I have something to say to you,” he murmured into your hair. “About us.”

You tensed, but his hand spread, warm, over your back. “Nothing as bad as that. Good, infact. Well, dependent on how you take it.”

Looking up, you sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for any number of admissions he could give. “Hit me with it.”

“I admit, I hadn’t  _ intended _ to tell you on the terrace mid feast, but it seems when it comes to you, I am never able to help myself,” he paused, his eyes searching your face for a moment, as if gathering courage from the warmth that he found there. “I love you, mortal.”

The fact he’d ended it with _mortal_ made you want to laugh - it was _so _Loki. But the rest made your heart hammer in your chest and your breath catch in your throat. The moment stretched as you gazed into his eyes, almost black in the darkness of the Asgardian night.

“I love you, too. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. We accept each other, Loki. It’s a rare thing. In any world. But especially in mine.”

His release of breath told you he’d feared your reaction. The relief was palpable in the tension that seeped out of him, his hold on you somehow loosening and tightening simultaneously. Lines that had lingered on his forehead and between his brows faded away, replaced by a crinkling around his eyes that spoke of his happiness.

Your heart clutched at the thought of his trepidation. “Did you think I wouldn’t be pleased?” you whispered.

He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “When you discover your life is a lie, it takes a long time to trust anyone’s reactions to what you say. But I trust  _ you. _ ” He cupped your face, his hands warm on your cheeks. “With all that I am.”

You cuddled into him as the moons continued to rise and as the party carried on a wall away. You had all you wanted in your arms.

  
  
  


********

“You’ve come to ask for the apple.”

Loki paused in the doorway of his mother’s chambers, and sighed internally. Of course she knew. Bloody Allmother knew everything that happened on Asgard and possibly in the other Nine Realms as well.

“Mother,” he drawled in greeting. “How did you know.” It wasn’t a question.

She turned to embrace him, smelling like his favourite Asgardian roses and the sweetness of cinnamon - the scents of his childhood. A fake childhood, but one he, in secret, treasured all the same. He would never trade his moments with Frigga for anything.

“My son,” she murmured as she stroked a hand over his back.

He didn’t correct her, although they both knew her words were a lie. A lie they both told themselves when no one else was around to listen.

He unbent from her embrace. “I have come for the apple, as you suspected.”

Frigga held out her hand, and Loki tucked it in the crook of his elbow. “Walk with me.”

He inclined his head in agreement and they strolled out into the sunshine together. Frigga’s quarters had a huge outdoor balcony complete with a grand fountain whose trickling waters provided the constant background to many memories of his childhood spent with her, learning how to properly wield his magic at her tutelage. Those had been their special moments together, one on one, no Thor or Odin to interrupt as they learned and laughed.

Loki bided his time as they watched tiny scarlet birds peck at the ultra-clear water.

“She is the one?” Frigga asked quietly.

“She is.” Of that he was certain.

His mother - because she was, in all ways but one - searched his gaze, then smiled, patting his cheek fondly with her free hand. “I can see it in your eyes. You were ever at war most with yourself, Loki. She puts you at peace.” She gestured, and a shiny red apple, complete with tiny, perfect golden leaf on the stem, appeared in the centre of her palm.

Loki reached for it, then snatched his hand back as if he might break it. Surely such a thing was not meant for his hands.

“What if…” he couldn’t voice the words, as if voicing the terrible thought would add validity to it.

“If she will not eat the apple?”

He swallowed, blinking suddenly wet eyes.

Frigga took his hand and placed the apple in it, curling his fingers around the cool, smooth flesh of the fruit. “There is but one way to find out.”


End file.
